To Poach an Egg
by 17dragonboy
Summary: A veggie elder is on a quest to steal a wyvern's egg. Loosely tied to "Bad Neighbors." Constructive criticism is appreciated.
1. Chapter 1 - Big Fish in the Small Pond

The weather was pleasant in the forest region surrounding a lake. The sky was a light shade of blue with a few wispy clouds scattered about, and of course the sun beaming in all of its glory. A small amount of wind brushed through the leaves and stirred up gentle waves in the water.

Beneath the treetops it was much shadier, though easily just as tranquil. Birds were chirping, bugs were buzzing. For now, nothing really stood in the way of a Wyverian on his quest as he walked through the forest, humming a tune to himself.

The little veggie elder wore clothing like any civilized person would, though it certainly showed its age with how worn down it was. He had a small backpack on him, and what looked like a quiver holding various long handle tools.

Something odd he had in his possession was what looked like a large barrel without a top and made out of animal hides, which he carried over his head with both arms. If he were to stand inside of it, its rim would be beneath his shoulders and he'd be able to turn relatively easily. This vessel was going to be his means of getting across the lake.

In the middle of the lake was a small island that was probably only thirty yards in diameter. This was where a Rathian had chosen to set up her nest recently. She must have chosen the spot for the protection of her eggs, which were invaluable for some many reasons. The eggs were the Wyverian's target, and a little bit of water wasn't going to deter him.

From his shore to that of the island, there was about a thousand yards of water to traverse, give or take largely. Both ways too, unfortunately. He knew that the water was inhabited by all kinds of creatures, including Epioth and Ludroth. Those would probably leave him alone, and there shouldn't really have been anything else in there that was large.

The Wyverian came out of the shade of the trees and onto a sandy beach on the water. A couple of Aptonoth, and adult and child, were there as well, casually drinking. The adult looked over at him as he approached the water, but ignored him thereafter and resumed drinking. The Wyverian lied his vessel on its side in the water so he could crawl in, and then pushed him and the little boat upright. After a few hops further into the water, he was floating and drifting. He slid his little paddle out of his quiver, and soon enough was pulling himself along to the island.

Because of the nature of his boat, each stroke of his paddle caused him to spin. In order to keep himself going in a straight line, he had to alternate sides often. As he made his way through the lake, he contemplated a dual oar system, using the hips of an animal perhaps. Hell, an actual boat like a canoe would have been ideal, or better yet a sail of some kind, but such things were beyond his construction skills. For now, he was content with the fact that there just weren't any leaks.

Stuff like weeds and small fish started to become very common as he traveled deeper into the lake. He thought he saw a group of Epioth cruising the bottom. No Ludroth luckily. The sky was clear of the Rathian, and he expected her to take a few more hours to return. He was making reasonable time, so he'd be in and out before she even started on her way back.

His paddle bumped into something on one of his strokes, causing the elder to look back and see what it was. The biggest Spear Tuna he'd ever seen in his ancient life. From tip to tail, it must have been seven feet long, the spear being close to two. It probably weighed between two and three hundred pounds. What he would give to have its skeleton mounted on his wall, it would look so much better than his four and a half footer. Alas, he was not in the position to wrangle the behemoth, nor did he have the equipment. Transporting it would be impossible with the egg, and that was more important.

He stared with his mouth open for a moment in admiration and upset. Eventually, the enormous fish wandered away, stirring up some waves and leaving the veggie elder to his business and disappointment. He contemplated returning another day for the fish, though that would require a lot of planning and preparation. He entertained the idea as he continued towards the island, about two thirds of the way there.

Suddenly him and his boat were thrown up several inches, and there was a ripping sound beneath him. He looked down, and saw a giant spike poking out of the floor of his vessel. If it were maybe fifteen degrees closer to vertical, it would have made a shish kabob out of his manhood.

The Wyverian let out a shriek of terror and anger. This was a big problem. A very, very big problem. A hole was just put in his boat and a fish that weighed twice as much as he did was trying to kill him, and the damn thing had a spear for a nose.

The fish pulled out and then disappeared into the murky water. Panicking, the Wyverian started paddling rapidly to the island, constantly looking out for the menacing tuna. Several moments passed without any detection, and then he saw it again in the distance.

It came from the front, just beneath the water surface, headed directly for him. It would run him through just beneath his chest. It would probably take a few, agonizing, stabs to kill him, all things considered. Maybe only a couple if it hit his heart or brain on the second go.

At the last moment, the Wyverian stepped off to the side and pressed himself up against the wall. The impact threw the boat backwards, almost knocking it over entirely, creating a large wave on the other side. The needle was mere inches from the Wyverian's body and over halfway across the boat. Thinking quickly, he seized the spearhead by the base, and then held on tight as the fish began thrashing about. Water started splashing everywhere and pouring into his boat, and the Spear Tuna showed no signs of tiring. Losing his grip, the Wyverian tried to reinforce his hold by getting on top of the nose. Struggling in the cramped space of his boat, he jumped up and put his chest on it, still only holding on by his hands.

Suddenly he fell and his boat completely capsized. He sank a few feet before getting oriented and then struggled to rise because of the weight of his equipment. After only a few seconds though he succeeded and gasped for air. Still in a panic, he looked around to see where the fish had gone or where it was coming from. He couldn't see it, but he did see his turned over boat close by. Upon closer inspection, he saw a shaft lying inside of it. The snapped off spearhead, only a little over a foot in length.

Not taking time to admire his accomplishment, the Wyverian swam over to his boat, collected the spearhead and threw it into his quiver, and then did the same with his oar that was floating nearby. The Spear Tuna would leave him alone now, but he still wanted to get out of the water before something like a Ludroth came along. He grabbed his boat and started kicking, fortunately only having a little of the way left to go.


	2. Chapter 2 - Always a Bigger Fish

The Wyverian swam ashore the small island, walking through the water the last few yards and dragging his boat behind him. That swim took a lot of energy out of him, plus the near death experience with the Spear Tuna. He still had the whole rest of the journey ahead of him too, and two holes in his boat. There wasn't really any turning back though.

He took a couple of minutes to just sit down and rest his legs and catch his breath. The island only had a few wide trees on it, casting some shadows that patched the land. The nest itself was in clear view, and its ghastly scent was just as apparent. Done resting for the moment, the Wyverian stood back up and headed over to the nest to continue his quest.

It was about ten yards in diameter and made primarily of animals bones of former prey of the Rathian. Some were still intact, some less so, but the majority of them were ground up into an almost gravel like state. Most had bits of flesh clinging to them, and with that came countless buzzing flies and the smell of rotting death. Some heaps of feces were smeared around, as well as some puddles of urine. Overall, it was appalling and sickening but it was where the Rathian chose to raise her children. The eggs were at the center, about half a dozen, lying in a bed of softer brush.

Not taking time to admire the wonderful decor, the Wyverian stepped on over to the eggs and picked one up with both hands, having to use his back. It was shy of two feet high and probably weighed thirty pounds, so it was quiet the cumbersome thing to carry. After carefully turning around, he went back to the beach, kicking a large pelvis out of his way.

Remembering the holes in his boat, he set the egg in the sand and tried to think of how to solve the problem. Even though eggs floated, he didn't want to swim across again for energy and safety reasons. After a short amount of thinking, he removed his quiver and then his over shirt, took a stone knife out of the quiver and started cutting the shirt down the middle. After making the cut and wrapping one half into a plug, he shoved the cloth into the bottom hole of his boat, and repeated the process for the second hole on the side. They fit snugly inside and should have been enough to get him across the river.

Content with his handiwork, the Wyverian put the knife away, put the quiver back on, put the egg in the boat, put the boat in the water, crawled inside, stood it up, then hopped into the water until he was floating again. The side plug seemed to be holding up well, letting water only trickle in very slowly. He couldn't see the bottom plug with the egg directly underneath him, but it seemed to be holding. Not about to test the seals though, he quickly got out his oar and started paddling back to the other shore.

His arms were moderately rested from the swim, as he used primarily his legs for the last bit. His legs were still a bit tired from walking, swimming and just standing. He was tempted to sit on the egg, which he had to straddle to stay balanced, but decided against it. It occurred to him that maybe he should have brought some, or a lot, of padding for the egg, because it was swaying around a lot and would move a whole lot more when he carried it in the boat on his back (the boat had two arm straps, making it double as a backpack). Alas, there wasn't much he could do now, and the egg did seem at least moderately sturdy.

He noticed an Epioth swim underneath him along the bedrock. They were big animals, pretty much like Aptonoth except underwater. A small wave trailed behind the animal, brushing up against the Wyverian's boat. He noticed a lot more waves coming from the same direction, and they had accumulated into larger waves.

Suddenly a few Epioth heads poked above the water surface, and a few more swam underneath him. The water started to get rocky, and the crowd was headed right for him. He tried to paddle out of their way, but it didn't work. A child was headed right for him and at an uncomfortable speed.

Using his oar, the Wyverian tried to push the child Epioth away, but almost lost his balance on a big wave. When the child ran into his boat like it didn't even see it, it almost tipped him over. Out of reaction, he grabbed onto the animal's outstretched head and caught his balance. He also dug his claws into its face, upsetting the aquatic child and bringing out a cry of upset. The other Epioth looked over and started mooing. Other, much larger and numerous Epioth.

Knowing things might get hairy, the Wyverian quickly started paddling away, hoping the angered water beast herd would just leave him alone. They didn't, and instead sent three large males his way. One might think they were pretty useless in a fight, considering they were underwater and had nothing sharp on them, but they were still several hundred pound behemoths.

Two of the Epioth flanked the Wyverian's sides, just beneath the water surface, and then came together towards him. They intended to sandwich him, and recognizing this the Wyverian spun his boat around and started paddling the opposite way. The egg obstructing his feet was not helping at all.

He got out from between the first two Epioth as they collided together, but then he was on an imminent crash course with the third one. It had its head above the water and was going to ram him with its chest and however much momentum it had.

Dropping his oar into the water, the Wyverian quickly fished out the Spear Tuna needle from his quiver, and then thrust it at the Epioth's throat. It sank right in there and deep, thoroughly discouraging the Epioth's advance. It would have cried out in pain if its throat hadn't just been fatally injured. Though the two did bump against each other, the Wyverian managed to cushion the impact and keep himself upright. As the Epioth sank back into the water the Wyverian put away the bloodstained needle and collected his oar, and then started paddling back the way he was going originally.

As luck would have it, the other two Epioth had turned around and were in front of him. Rotating and paddling off to the side, he tried to go around them, but they simply steered towards him. Things were looking bad. And then they got better and worse all at the same time.

Some wyvern sized mass shot up from below, snatching up one of the Epioth in one giant bite. An enormous wave was made that sent the Wyverian's little boat bounding away, almost tipping it over. This all of coarse scared the living hell out of the Wyverian and the Epioth, both of which fled like children from a clown. Even though the Gobul (as the Wyverian discerned the giant entity to be) would probably be content with the Epioth it just swallowed whole, the Wyverian wanted to get away from it and out of the water as soon as possible.

For the rest of the journey across the lake, the Wyverian paddled as fast as he was able, throwing ideas like 'conserve strength' to the wind. He could rest on land where there weren't violent swordfish, big-idiot-water-lizards or giant eat-a-big-idiot-water-lizard-in-one-fucking-bite fish. Knowing his current luck, a horny Royal Ludroth would come his way and try to feed him to all of the females it was trying to swoon. At least his boat hadn't taken on much water... He looked down just to confirm that.

In maybe a third of the time it took him to go the other way, the Wyverian neared the beach. The two Aptonoth were still there, an adult and child, sipping at the water. They looked at him funny wondering what he was, but ignored him afterward again. He paddled up to the sand, tipped his boat over and tiredly dragged it ashore. Originally he had planned to collect his things and go, but after that trek he decided to take a rest for... A substantial amount of time.

He put his oar away into his quiver and pulled the boat further up shore. A Plesioth shot out of the water and snatched up the smaller Aptonoth, and yanked it under just as quickly as it appeared. The Wyverian slipped the backpack-boat over his arms and ran into the forest.


	3. Chapter 3 - Karma's a 'Broad'

A small group of Kelbi were wandering through the shady forest, searching for whatever food they could find. It wasn't long until they came across a berry bush, which they soon gathered around and started munching at. One of the Kelbi seemed to be particularly old, having a much grayer coat than the others. It was significantly larger though, which made sense as it must have had some kind of edge to live as long as it did.

Suddenly something big started to come down from overheard, casting its shadow, and the Kelbi took off running. The oldest almost had a heart attack... Actually, it did have a heart attack. The poor thing fell over and started shaking uncontrollably, pooping and peeing itself at the same time.

The Wyverian had been up in the tree resting for the better part of an hour. His boat (with the egg inside) was up there with him, which he was now lowering down to the ground with a long rope. The old Kelbi was right underneath where he was trying to set the egg down and still thrashing around, not quite dead yet. Annoyed by accepting the situation, the Wyverian just waited for the deer to die, suspending the heavy egg in the air... A couple of minutes passed and the unfortunate animal was still at it, showing no signs of stopping.

Finally the Wyverian had enough and pulled the boat back up to his perch. He set the boat in a secure niche, removed the rope and then started to lower himself down to the dying animal. He swung himself back and forth so he didn't come down right on top of it.

As luck would have it, as soon as he touched the ground the Kelbi stopped moving. He let out an annoyed sigh and gesture, but while he was down there he may as well move it out of the way. It was a large Kelbi but still in his ability to drag along. He leaned over and grabbed the hind legs, and was promptly kicked the in nose. The thing still had some kick in in, literally.

The Wyverian let out an angered cry, then seized the legs more forcibly and dragged the Kelbi away. His nose hurt pretty bad and was bleeding, maybe even broken. A tough old man though, the Wyverian continued his business, climbing back up the tree, retying the boat and lowering it down, then getting himself back on the ground with his rope.

As he was coiling the rope back up to put it away, he thought of the valuable horns of the Kelbi. Sawing them off would take a lot of time and energy, but removing its head was manageable, albeit grisly. So he put away his rope and got out his knife, and over the course of a few minutes removed the Kelbi's head. He was nervous about more death throes as he did so, but sitting on the monster offered substantial security.

Everything was a bloody mess afterwards of course. Blood was all over the ground, him, the head. Some got in his mouth when he cut the artery, or maybe that was his own blood from his nose. His concern was carnivorous monsters that would track the scent. Doing what he could, he removed the cloth plugs in his boat, wiped himself clean, then wrapped up the Kelbi head. Its horns still stuck out and some of its face, but that was fine. And so, he was on his way deeper into the forest.

He had a little shelter a few miles away, which was his destination. A friend (more of an acquaintance really, or a business partner) was going to visit him and buy the egg off of him. He also had some monster hunter equipment he was going to sell, taken from a dead hunter he found a little while back. All he had to do was get to the shelter and he was all set.

A long while passed without anything really happening. His nose was still bothering the hell out of him, but was probably worth the Kelbi horns. Then he heard something in the bushes, quickly drawing his attention. A Jaggi, stalking him and now aware that it had been noticed. Even though alone the raptor was relatively weak (something he could handle), it could pose a huge problem. They were the scouts of their packs, and if they didn't think they could handle something on their own they ran to their superiors for back up. Several Jaggi, and/or some Jaggia, and/or a Great Jaggi was a bit out of the Wyverian's capabilities.

And of course, the Jaggi spun around and started running away. It was probably frightened by the combined size of the boat and the Wyverian. There was more to be feared than met the eye though. Suddenly there was a big BANG, and the Jaggi had an agonizing sensation in its rear end. The little monster fell to the ground and tried to get back up, but its struggled were in vain. It could only watch helplessly as the Wyverian menacingly approached with some small smoking contraption. It was a revolver pistol he'd taken from the dead hunter, and a very nice one at that.

The Wyverian contemplated just shooting the Jaggi in the head, but that'd cost him a bullet (he was really stingy). He got out his knife, but when he leaned in the Jaggi spun over and snapped at him. It was apparent it wasn't going to go down without a fight, and he'd probably take unnecessary damage if he tried to get in close. After putting away his knife, the Wyverian reached for his oar, but then remembered something. He didn't have to put the Jaggi out of its misery.

And just like that, he started walking away the way he was going. He opened up the revolver, removed the spent cartridge and replaced it with a new one, storing away the old one. He had a small stockpile of bullets on him (what the hunter had on him at his passing), but was going to put in an order in for more when his colleague visited.

Karma from the Jaggi struck the Wyverian when something stung his neck. Quickly feeling for what it was, he pulled out a small blow dart. Shrilly chanting started resonating around him, and a group of Shakalaka revealed themselves from their hiding, all bearing weapons.

The Wyverian knew he wasn't going to be able to flee from the Shakalaka, so he sought to either scare them away or eliminate them altogether. Getting out the revolver again, he pointed it at one of their bodies, and then realized he'd been drugged badly. His vision rapidly went hazy, his balance started to give, and his body became tired and weak. He took a shot at one of the little humanoids then fell onto his side before collapsing and fading out.


	4. Chapter 4 (Final) - Crashing the Party

The Wyverian started to regain consciousness. As soon as he was somewhat awake, he snapped into alertness. It was raining out and dark. He guessed a few hours had passed since the ambush. He was completely naked. They took everything from him, intangible things such as dignity being no exception.

He stood up, fortunately uninjured (besides his nose from earlier). His fists were clenched and his face was distorted with rage. Those little tribal barbarian freaks were going to regret not killing him. They messed with the wrong Wyverian. He knew where they lived and where they were going to be residing for the rest of eternity. He was going to make them pay. Not even all of their miserable lives put together could hope to refund what they owed him, so they were going to have to suffer dearly to make the difference.

Without a second thought, he stomped off through the wet forest.

The Shakalaka fort, if that's what it could be called, was loudly resonating instrumental music and chanting. The Shakalaka were performing some kind of ceremony, or ritual, or maybe a sacrifice. Their bizarre ways were still a mystery to the rest of the world.

The 'houses' around the fort varied from shelters to tree houses to huts to tents. Despite being primitive creatures, the Shakalaka's construction skills were quite remarkable. They used just about anything the land provided, including wood, bones, animal hide, vines, dirt and rocks. Their sense of art decorated just about everything there was, including symbolic carvings and paintings, another skill of theirs.

The fort was condensed into an area about ten yards across, though extended what would be multiple stories up from the ground. At the center of the fort were three thick trees a few (human) paces away from one another. These trees had been stripped of their branches up to a certain height (about a hundred feet). At that height something like a dome was constructed, made of the same materials everything else was made of and sturdy enough to stand on. A small hole (about a foot wide) was left in the center, where currently a thick shaft of smoke rose out.

In the center of the three main trees and and underneath the dome was a large several foot wide fire. The dirt underneath had been deeply dug out and filled with wood, bones and hide. All of the Shakalaka were gathered around the fire (some on the dome), either dancing, singing, playing an instrument, or a combination of the three. Some were dressed and painted up more bizarrely that usual.

Suspended just over the fire from the three trees by thick vine cords was a large metal bowl that was a little less wide than the fire itself. Steam rose from within, indicating boiling water. The Shakalaka were cooking something and a lot of it. Diced vegetables, various seasonings, and pieces of meat could be seen flowing around as some of the Shakalaka stirred the pot from atop the suspending cords. And of course, the Wyvern egg was inside cooking, still in its shell as it floated around.

Suddenly one of the Shakalaka fell down through the smoke hole, landing in the boiling pot and splashing water everywhere. That wasn't supposed to happen until much later in the ceremony, so the others immediately knew something was wrong. The unfortunate Shakalaka thrashed and screamed as he was boiled alive, grabbing onto one of the stirring rods. The others scrambled throughout the fort, grabbing weapons and taking up positions. Right after that, several of the Shakalaka began scaling the main trees to see what was going on.

They arrived at the top of the dome ready to kill, but saw no enemies to unleash their rage upon. Only dead allies, some gored to death, others with their limbs and necks snapped, some a combination of both. Those that had climbed up began scanning the surrounding area to see who or what was responsible.

One of the Shakalaka was suddenly yanked off the dome from the side, then left hanging in the air by what was basically a vine noose. Something leapt across the tree branches in the distance, causing some of the Shakalaka to throw their weapons at. Then, from a different angle, a wooden spear flew at them, sticking one and causing it to stumble off the platform to its death. A large rock flew at another one of them, causing it to step backwards in retreat, then another, yielding the same result. Two more stones flew, then one beamed the Shakalaka in the head, sending it plummeting to its death over the edge as well.

Only three, very scared Shakalaka remained on the dome, hunched over and shaking in fear looking out into the woods. A big crack was heard, capturing their attention, and then a small boulder on a rope came swinging towards them. The little creatures easily got out of its way, letting it fly past them, but didn't see the 'other' similarly swinging object come from the side.

The naked Wyverian swung in and sent one of the Shakalaka flying with a two foot kick. His rope and that of the boulder crisscrossed and tangled, quickly changing their trajectories into a circular spin. One of the two remaining Shakalaka was smashed off by the boulder as it twirled around. As the two ropes spun together, the Wyverian set down on the dome, and then turned to the last Shakalaka. The look in his eyes and the thoughts in his head would make any creature cower in terror.

Despite the sounds of chaos below, the Shakalaka that weren't on the dome began to hear a horrible screaming from above. One of their comrades. The screams grew louder, if such a thing was possible, and then just stopped. Eternal seconds passed as the Shakalaka searched around in fear, waiting for the next victim.

A body was thrown off the dome in one direction, and then another body flew a different way. Suddenly there was another scream from the ground, and as all the Shakalaka looked over they only caught a glimpse of the Wyverian as he swung through the air in the buff, having just put a spear into a few of their backs. Several projectiles flew at him as he sailed through the air, none connecting, and then he let go of his vine and flew onto another, swinging off into the darkness again.

Recognizing their enemy now, the Shakalaka ran into the woods after him, screeching and hollering for battle. Along with their variety of primitive weapons, they carried torches and sticks from the fire to illuminate the area. After running a small distance from the fort though, they realized they didn't know where the Wyverian was. The order was quickly given to split up, but remain close by and with others. The Shakalaka started to break off into groups and go different ways, some climbing up into trees while others remained on the ground.

Time began to drag on again as they nervously wandered around the area, thinking the Wyverian was going to make the first move again. They were more focused on listening for sounds of distress from other groups than they were on visually searching. As they spread out further though, the possibility of the Wyverian not being found, with so many of them looking, became harder to believe. They realized that he must have retreated, performing a hit and run, but would be back again later. Coming to this conclusion, they were about to call the hunt off in order to prepare for the next attack. Then they found him, or rather he made his presence known again.

One of the Shakalaka on the ground was run through, quickly followed by another close by. Those in a tree nearby started to come down, letting out war cries, but one by one were eliminated as they came within a certain distance of the Wyverian.

Having the last one speared, the Wyverian turned to face the rest, blocking a couple of projectiles with the dead body. There weren't that many more to face, a few more than ten. Even though Shakalaka were barbaric creatures and efficient hunters, they were not skilled fighters nor very powerful. After tossing the body off, the Wyverian twirled his staff around in an intimidating manner, a few times over and around his body, showing off the two sharpened ends. Finishing off his form and tucking the double sided spear under his arm, he waved the remaining Shakalaka to come at him.

Provoked out of the restraints of fear, the crowd of Shakalaka charged at him with a harmonic roar. Doing the same, the Wyverian charged them all head on, spear held low and forward. He ran one through with ease, and then used it like a pole vault, jumping out of harm's way and onto the other side of the group. He slid through the mud before whipping around and rushing back at them.

Turning around, one of the Shakalaka was met with a flurry of thrusts, quickly being overwhelmed and fatally stabbed. When another tried to get around its unfortunate comrade it was smashed upside the head with a spin around swing, snapping that end of the stick. The Wyverian used the other end to jab another one of the Shakalaka through its mask's eye holes before backing away from the clustered group.

He ended up just turning around and running away towards the fire pit, easily creating some space between him and the smaller humanoids. As they pursued him they unintentionally spread themselves out with their minute differences in speed. Planning on this, the Wyverian spun around and then eliminated the front runners one by one, throwing the last one over his head into the fire behind him.

An explosive bang came from the rear of the group, and something whizzed by the Wyverian's arm before pinging off the cooking pot. The King Shakalaka, distinguished by an actual fire on top of its head, was holding the revolver with both hands, looking like it just got smacked in the face from the recoil.

Even though the primitive creature was probably a horrible shot, the Wyverian still began retreating around to the other side of the cooking pot. The other Shakalaka followed, the first of which the Wyverian attacked the legs of. The little monster lost its footing and was easily pushed aside into the fire. Spinning around, the Wyverian whipped his staff across and smacked another Shakalaka into the fire before finishing them both off.

The King took another shot, lower this time, putting it right through the head of one of his subjects. Once more the small weapon snapped back at him and into his face, cushioned by his mask.

The Wyverian stuck one of the burning bodies in the fire and threw it at the remaining Shakalaka, halting their advance. Exploiting their hesitation, he rushed them and gored another, threw him up into the air as a distraction, broke another's leg, and pushed another to the ground. By chance, the body that was thrown upward landed on another one of them.

The King had adjusted his position around the cooking pot and gotten closer, but still missed completely with the third shot. Catching its balance and having somewhat figured out the recoil problem, it took another shot as the Wyverian continued his way around the pot, ricocheting off its edge and into the dirt.

Only three Shakalaka remained besides the king, and their courage rapidly faded as their numbers dwindled. The Wyverian advanced on them, swatted a weapon away, made a quick thrust into the chest, then blocked as one of them swung its stone hatchet at him. Shifting his spear and putting out his foot, he sent the Shakalaka falling behind him, spun his staff around, then stabbed it in the back without even looking.

The last one turned around and started to flee, but didn't get very far before the hurled javelin passed through. Looking for the King now, the Wyverian jumped back when he realized where leader was, getting out of the way just before the bullet flew. He continued around to the other side of the pot, hunched over to watch the King's feet. The King seemed to be doing the same, still thinking it had a chance with the revolver. The Wyverian started to run for the woods, but then quickly stopped, tricking the King into taking another shot where it thought the Wyverian would be.

Standing upright now, the Wyverian slowly walked around the pot, fist still clenched and nude body covered in blood. The King Shakalaka seemed to have gotten smacked by the recoil again, but scrambled to regain its grip as the Wyverian neared. They were only a few feet apart. It shouted something before firing.

The King was expecting the major recoil and big bang, but they never came. It took it a moment to realize what had happened, or rather what hadn't happened. The Wyverian was still standing, actually just standing there in one spot waiting. Panicking, the Shakalaka pulled the trigger several times more, making the same loud clicking noise each time.

Finally the Wyverian got tired of seeing his gun abused (dry firing is unhealthy). He walked up to the King Shakalaka, grabbed the gun and ripped it out of its hands. The King turned around to run, but then felt the Wyverian seize its arm, and then its other. Kicking the Shakalaka's legs out from under, the Wyverian forced it onto the ground, standing on top of its back. He pushed its arms to one side, breaking one at the shoulder, then pushed then the other way, breaking the other.

As the Shakalaka cried out, the Wyverian rolled it over onto its back, grabbed its mask, then jammed his sharp thumbnails into the eye holes, bringing out truly inhuman screaming. After kicking the little monster onto its front again, he ended it by grabbing its head and giving it a hard twist in one direction, instantly ending the wailing.

The rain had let up. It was still dark out but the fire was still burning strongly. The smell of wonderfully cooked food filled the air. About half an hour has passed since the ambush. The Wyverian had finished off any of the Shakalaka that weren't quite dead, which was quite a few. Their bodies were now thrown into a little pile just a few feet away from the fort to be taken care of later.

One of the vine cords holding up the giant pot had been cut, and underneath some dirt had been thrown on the fire to smother it, creating something of a walkway. The pot was empty now, the food shoveled out and the water either spilled or boiled off. Some residue from the seasonings remained.

The dressed Wyverian was sitting on a nearby rock with his boat and tool filled quiver next to him. He had a dinner plate sized eggshell in his hand, holding steaming colorful vegetables, cooked meats and some hard boiled wyvern egg. He calmly ate from it with his other hand, using his claws. It really was the best meal he'd ever eaten in his life. If Shakalaka were good for anything, they knew how to cook. He'd loaded all of the food into his boat using some tools he'd found around the place. He'd bring it home tomorrow, after some well deserved sleep.

He'd be back at the Shakalaka fort the same day though. His fort, rather. It would need some work, some renovating, but he could make it work for him. It had more space than his old place, and was closer to where he often traveled for food. He didn't have to worry about crossing paths with Shakalaka anymore either.

In the end, though he might not have gotten the Wyvern egg the way he intended, he was content.

There was always another day too.


End file.
